Pushing Buttons
by Whitewolfffy
Summary: It all started with a button. It didn't appear ominious. The fact that it was black and had the name 'Erik' written on it in perfect script was actually tempting. Who could resist finding out what it summoned? Especially two socially-deprived girls.
1. Chapter 1

**~ Chapter One ~**

"I want it! I want it! Give it to **me**! I _want_ it! C'mon, Neko-chan~!"

Jessica shook her head firmly, her arms wrapped tightly around the girl's waist in a firm grip.

"You can't have it! What if you press it and the whole school comes in here? What if it sets off a fire alarm?"

"I don't think _black_ ones set off an alarm! Even if it did, I don't care! Just let me _have_ it!"

Saffron struggled against her friend's grip, her eyes settled on the prize ahead. It sat on the wall a few feet in front of her, glimmering and just begging to be pressed. In perfectly scripted words above, it read – _Erik_.

"Damn fan-girls." Jessica sighed.

Tia – Saffron's best friend and closest companion – eyed the thing thoughtfully. She wasn't sure why someone would place such a thing in so obvious a place, but what was wrong with touching it? It was true that such an action could cause only trouble – but wasn't trouble entertaining? Like games…

~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~

It all started with a button.

The button itself was not the type you would find in just any store, vehicle, device, or otherwise technological contraption. In fact, this button appeared anything but ordinary. The fact that it was big, black, and quite intimidating didn't seem ominous, but more of temptingly mysterious.

In fact, it might be wise to retell how the button was discovered.

A piercing sound broke through the morning, echoing through the halls of the high school. It was the cry of the bell, announcing the change in classes. Teenagers burst through the silent hallway, rushing in swarms to their next locations.

"I can't believe that we missed the bus!" One girl smiled, seemingly unfazed by this fact, though slightly amused.

"I'd say the bus missed _us_." Another retorted.

"I don't think a bus holds grudges, Tia."

The halls were overly-crowded, making it near impossible to do anything but walk slowly. It was difficult to just keep from being shoved. The sea of heads bobbed up and down, making their way toward the last classes of the day.

Tia nodded, "No, but the driver does! He must have good memory…"

The first girl – Saffron – blinked a few times, as though recalling the memory.

"I don't think I would forget having my bus ruined by a lion and two bags of cotton balls."

"It was all a part of the cosplay!" Tia insisted, her tone hinting that this wasn't the first time she had used this excuse.

Saffron was quite used to this, and if nothing else, it was actually normal. While she preferred Pocky, books, and anime, Tia was obsessed with all-of-the-above plus gaming.

"You never told me how you got the zoo to lend you the lion."

Tia smiled, "The zoo's manager was quite helpful once I showed him some certain photos."

"That was nice of him."

"…"

~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~

The gym wasn't too full, and by the time they were both dressed and ready, their friends were already out on the polished floor. Saffron smiled brightly, grabbing Tia's hand and dragging her along.

"Neko-chan~! How are you today?"

Jessica turned around at the sound of her friend's voice, her eyes wide with curiosity. She smiled softly upon seeing the two girls. It was a usual sight – Safer dragging Tia. Tia seemed completely bored, her free hand reaching up to gently nudge her glasses up the bridge of her nose. She waved slightly toward Jessica (commonly dubbed as 'Neko-chan' by Saffron).

"Hey! You are both on time."

This seemed an utterly innocent statement, though on this certain occasion, it was unusual. Tia and Saffron were commonly late, their latest being ten minutes before the class ended (a situation involving Keebler Elves and a giant ball of fudge which shall not be explained for the safety of viewers' eyes).

"Blame the bus driver for the school. He skipped our street, so we ran here. It turned out that Saffron's alarm clock was an hour ahead, so we got here considerably early today."

Jessica blinked, "Hold on. The bus driver…hey, didn't that lion-"

Saffron nodded enthusiastically.

"He needed _it_ surgically removed."

Jessica's eyes widened, and she shuddered visibly. It was right about then that a crowd of girls a little ways away began whispering heatedly. Tia was oblivious, but Safer turned to look. It turned-out that the teacher was late (the reason being an unfortunate incident in the girls' bathroom).

"I'll be right back."

Tia watched as her friend ran-off. She sighed, though the moment was opportune to take out her music. She dug in her pocket, fishing out the I-pod.

"So, I heard that your brother just joined the school."

"Yeah."

Jessica paused, furrowing her brow. She smiled after a moment.

"Ah, the poor souls of the Freshman. I still clearly remember our first year."

Tia nodded, "That was the same year I beat the Online Tournament for Amateur Gamers. I got fifty bucks out of that."

"Hey, did you hear about the new game from Ja-"

"NEKO-CHAN~! TIA!"

The two girls jerked at the shrieking, their heads snapping up. Didn't Saffron _just_ leave? What was it _now_? Tia ran toward the sound of her voice, locating her on the far side of the gym (behind some bleachers). Safer's eyes were lit with complete awe, her fingers twitching at her sides.

"It's…so…_pretty_!"

Tia and Jessica turned to look, pausing on the sight of something dark on the wall. Something black. Something large. Something quite similar to a…button?

Tia could see the look on the girl's face, connected to the same expression she herself wore while she was playing the X-box…

Saffron was about ten years-old when it happened. It was Tia's birthday, and they were picking out movies. Tia was quite a fan of classics, though Saffron was much more involved with romantic movies. So they settled together on a decision.

_The Phantom of the Opera._

It was quite a good choice, according to Tia's mother. So they sat and watched. The cloaked figure was enchanting to Saffron, dark and mysterious. It was far more interesting than most of the books she had read. This creature – this _man_ – was something new. Something different.

It's true to say that this 'Phantom' was only a mere work of fiction, but saying such a thing to Saffron was near dangerous. She never looked back after that – obsessing over the books and spending her time watching and memorizing each and every part of the movie. Such was the life of a dedicated fan girl.

Tia wasn't near as transfixed on this, though she was quite a fan herself. She loved reading about it, and she completely adored everything about it – within an inch of believing in it like Safer did.

So, as she watched her friend stare at the button with a glazed look in her eyes, it made her wonder.

~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~–~

"Tia, press it!"

"Don't press it!"

Jessica shook her head urgently, "You don't know what will happen!"

It was quite a moment of thinking on her part.

_Press the button… Don't press the button…_

After a moment of thinking, and watching Jessica wrestle around with Safer, she lifted her hand. And pushed. Hard.

Jessica gasped, a look of dread in her eyes. For all she knew, she might be stuck in detention _with_ them.

"YAY!" Safer grinned.

* * *

**_I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. I promise that the coming chapters will be longer, as well as better than this one. I wasn't quite sure how to introduce the characters, and I was quite tired. So, here is the first chapter. Forgive me if it displeases you in any way._**

**_Please stick around...and REVIEW!_**

**_Whitewolfffy~_**


	2. Chapter 2

**~ Chapter Two ~**

_**Tia**_

I could have regretted pressing the button. After spending an hour walking home with Saffron, the only thing that I _did_ start to regret was inviting her to spend the night at my house. Jessica never let me hear the end of it, for the hour left of our class period.

"_What if that thing is connected to one of the alarm systems here? We might be sent straight to the office, or worse."_

To be honest, the idea of the office calling my parents was the last thing I'd worry about. Now, the score on my _Devil May Cry_ game…well, that was a different matter. Safer wasn't the type to play those sorts of games, and if anything, she'd smother her face in pillows whenever a cut-scene would appear on the screen. Blood and gore wasn't her thing – normally.

A mistake on my part was inviting her to stay the night at my house. Dealing with hyperactive people wasn't my area of expertise, unlike the passive 'Neko-chan' whom so easily could put-up with Safer tackling her to the ground in a bone-breaking grip. I never understood my choice of befriending the girl. She wasn't the type of person I would consider conversing with, not that I was much into socializing anyway.

Light danced over the red ribbon that was tied back in her hair. Saffron let out a sigh as we stopped in front of my house. I fished in my bag for the keys, ignoring her distant humming.

"You don't think that Kale is here tonight, do you?"

I shrugged at the mention of my younger brother, "I wouldn't know, and I don't really care."

"But if he's not here, then how do we know that the house won't be broken into by a pervert?"

"What does that have to do with Kale?"

The key slid into the lock, only to stick in place as I attempted to turn it. Mom had nagged my father for over a month to replace the locks on the door. It had taken at least a week to get more than a grunt out of him. Tonight he was supposed to have a meeting with his Gaming Group. The guy in charge of the group was really rich, and my dad attended the meetings like it was some sort of religion. Apparently the most recent expansion for World of Warcraft had been more than sufficient in keeping their plotting occupied.

"It has been proven that if there are men present in a household, there is less of a chance that it will be raided by desperate or cold-hearted perverts. If Kale is here, then nobody will want to break in and rape us!"

I jiggled the keys irritably, cursing under my breath when they didn't budge. I'd have to go around the house and try the pet door. Damnit.

"Saffron, if you'd take a look in my brother's room, I think you'd see that the 'desperate pervert' role is already filled. And nobody would want to rape or kidnap you. They'd bring you back before morning."

My best friend followed me as I trekked through the back yard, ignoring the signs that read in bold letters 'Our Pet Likes New Toys' and 'Leave Now or Die'. The pet door was open, thankfully.

"Yes, but what if-"

"Nobody is going to break into the house. Quit being paranoid. Now, will you please help?"

I gestured toward the back door. I wasn't earning points for patience, but it didn't really matter. Saffron shrugged off her jacket and bag, handing them to me. She strode toward the door dutifully, crouching down to peer through the small opening. She swept the plastic back with her hands and pushed her petite figure through it. If it wasn't for the fact that she wasn't the average size for someone her age, I might have been concerned that someone could fit through there at all.

"Kale's home." Saffron announced from the other side.

"Good. Tell him to order pizza."

The following clicks confirmed that the house was open for entrance. The door opened almost immediately, Saffron reaching forward to grab her things from me.

"You didn't really mean it when you said that he's a desperate pervert, did you?"

"Pfft. Please. He hasn't even had a girlfriend yet. From the way things are going, it looks like he'll be lucky if he ever has sex in his life."

"Well," She smiled, bumping the door closed with her hip, "You never know. He might find the right girl."

Footsteps thudded through the ceiling, verifying Saffron's declaration. I treaded up the stairs, Safer close on my heels. The house was silent, warmth humming through the vents. Kale let out a grunt when we walked into the kitchen. Half of a bagel dangled from his mouth, and his hands stilled on the keyboard of the laptop in front of him.

"Hey, Asshole, order some pizza."

Kale rolled his eyes, reaching up to pull the damaged bagel from his mouth.

"Do it yourself. I'm on a quest."

Saffron waved politely, only to earn a grin from Kale. The guy had no concept of manners.

"I'll show you where to find the Elder."

My brother was a complete Gamer, just like my father and myself. Our parents were thrilled to learn that their children adored all of it as much as they did. I have a vague memory of my brother's first word being 'zombie'.

Kale's eyes lit at my offer, "Sure."

I smiled to myself, stopping to ruffle his hair on my way out.

"Order one for yourself, too, buddy."

His blond hair turned messy quick, a shy smile pulling at his lips. As much of a jerk as he could be since he got past the beginnings of puberty, he could also be a softie at heart.

My cat was the only resident in my room when we reached it. One yellow eye slid open, peering at us almost suspiciously. Upon seeing Saffron, though, his head lifted and a soft purr vibrated through his chest.

"Hey, Erik!" She whispered, walking over to stroke his ebony fur.

He arched his back against her willing hand, his purrs growing louder.

"Traitor," I muttered vaguely.

I assume Kale had called for pizza, because the doorbell went off about twenty minutes later. The pizza guy was five minutes late, and Kale lost his wallet in the laundry. So instead of going to look for it or asking for money, he yelled at the guy for his incompetence. Needless to say, the pizza was free.

Saffron and I spent the next few hours eating a box-worth of melted cheese and pepperoni, and reciting every line from the _Labyrinth_ – except for the ones that were said by the Goblin King himself. She insisted that those lines were far too sacred to repeat, not to mention that no one could sound as good as him while saying them. After that we played some games and watched _Phantom of the Opera_ until we fell asleep. It truly had turned out to be a great night.

What I didn't know then was that it was the morning that would change everything.

* * *

It wasn't an alarm clock that woke me up. I didn't wake up by myself until noon, either, on a good Saturday. And it certainly wasn't my cat's butt in my face, which of course was his way of demanding food.

It was a scream. To be more specific, _Saffron's_ scream.

My eyes flew open, and I practically fell out of the bed. My head pounded in response, cursing me for the interruption of lethargic brain cells. In the distance I could hear what sounded like distinct thudding, almost as though something were being beat with a paddle.

"HEY! _OW!_ STOP!"

Saffron didn't respond to the outraged voice, instead screaming her lungs out in protest. I stumbled toward the noise, acutely aware that the closer I got to the mess of voices, the more my head throbbed. I pried my eyes open, squinting in the sunlight that poured in the room. My room was a relatively clean place, thankfully, so it wasn't too difficult a task.

What looked like a blurred stick was waving through the air, contacting something black, tall, and lean. It took a moment before my vision shifted into focus, and when it did, I was so stunned that all I could manage to do was blink like a dumbfounded idiot.

My best friend's eyes were squeezed shut, her arms stiffly stretched out in front of her as she waved a baseball bat up and down repeatedly. She looked like she was attempting to hit anything she could reach, which happened to be the man that was hissing words through clenched teeth.

"Where the hell is my rope?" He growled, his eyes darting around him.

He had only just spoken the words when the baseball bat came swinging toward him again, and he narrowly ducked his head out of the way. Raven-gloved hands reached toward Saffron, only to be swatted away by her blind rampage.

"Hey, you!" I hollered, and even to my muddled, sleep-deprived brain, my own voice sounded loud.

The situation seemed to freeze. He had been so occupied with the problem at hand, that it appeared the stranger hadn't even noticed my approach. I have no clue how the hell I hadn't woke up sooner with this sort of chaos going on.

"HEY!"

The baseball bat hit the carpet with a soft thump, her wide green eyes flying open and seeking me out. I was about to raise my voice – perhaps run for the hall and my parents' bedroom to find my father's pistol – when my eyes froze on him. It was as though all body functions were cut-off mid-stride.

A smooth white mask was the first thing that I registered, eyes as dark as midnight glowering at me from behind its recesses. His gloved hands were clenched, an silky black cloak draped behind him. It was as though he had stepped straight out of the book.

"…Erik…?" I murmured.

Saffron stared at him as though she had just looked at him for the first time, her mouth falling open. Her face had been pale only moments before, and now it flushed scarlet.

"Erik!"

It was more of an exclamation from an eccentric child than a statement. In response my cat meowed, his head poking out from under my bed.

"Where am I?" Our living-dream asked slowly, though there was clearly an underlying threat under the surface of his tone, and it could have had to do with the fact that two strange girls somehow knew his name _and_ were looking at him like he was some sort of god.

"Erik!" Saffron blurted.

"My h-house."

Erik's eyes slid over my figure, perhaps calculating whether I was worth harming.

"How did I get here?"

"Erik!"

I swallowed, "How should I know?"

My cat meowed irritably.

"Where is Christine? Are you an accomplice of the Vicomte de Chagny?"

"No…"

"Erik!"

"Who are you?"

"Erik!"

The Phantom's gaze darted to Saffron, aggravation sparking their depths.

"You. Be silent. I'm not in the best condition of mind, and if only I had a rope, I would be more than inclined to punjab you."

Saffron's eyes clouded over, "Erik."

My cat hissed, indicating that he was more than sick of his name being repeated. I turned to look down at him almost absently, and in that one moment, Erik – the non-feline – flew out of the room. Saffron let out a shrill little yelp like the obsessive fangirl she obviously was. She didn't even pause, the baseball bat long forgotten. She ran out the door, shrieking Erik's name as I ran after her.

The cat with said name followed, mewling excitedly as though he believed we were running downstairs to retrieve his food.

* * *

**_Okay, so this isn't really a fanfic I'm doing seriously. It's just something for a friend. But if anyone else enjoys it - yay, bonus! So, continue it? Don't continue it?_**

**_*sigh* Let me know._**

**_Whitewolfffy~_**


	3. Chapter 3

**~Chapter Three ~**

_**Saffron**_

I had always enjoyed Tia's house more than my own. I mean, most of the time I was by myself while my mom was working. And on top of that, I was an only child. I wasn't sure whether it was these reasons, the fact that she introduced me to the world of fandom, or both of these facts combined that I loved being at her house so much.

Looking at her life and mine, and then trying to compare them would be like humming to yourself, 'One of These Things is not like the Other'. Some of the pieces just didn't match. Despite this, I found myself drawn to her. She really was an amazing person – once you peeled back the anti-social layers. She had a wonderful talent for calming people down, as well as pulling a situation to a stand-still.

This remained true as she looked me in the eyes, her hands gripping my shoulders with a careful but firm hold. Disbelief and excitement rushed through me, or that could have just been the adrenaline.

"I'm serious, Safer. You have to chill-out."

"You're telling me to calm down when there is a drool-worthy, dark, musical genius from the eighteenth century in our closet."

Tia sighed, "It's _my_ closet. And yes. You _have_ to calm down."

I couldn't – well, yes, I could since it was Tia – believe that she was actually composed in such times as this. Truly, our childhood dream-guy was unconscious in her room and she was just standing there with a tranquil expression on her face. I could remember a time when we were younger, perhaps third or fourth grade. The school held a Spirit Week, and one of the days was Superhero Day. We both showed-up wearing identical black costumes and opera masks. No one had understood how the Phantom of the Opera was our hero. But he was, and so much more than that. He was an inspiration to our imaginations, a piece of literature and music that helped nurture our creative growth.

I just couldn't see how she could remain so passive when all _I_ wanted to do was go in there and lock myself in the closet with him.

"What are we going to do?" I mused after a moment.

My best friend shrugged, brushing dark curls out of her face.

"We're going to wait a little bit, make sure it's actually the main character from a national classic and not a weirdo in my room, and then we'll decide what we're going to do next."

"But," I breathed, "What about Kale? He's downstairs!"

Tia bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder at the staircase as though she'd just realized this. A shirt lay on the banister, along with a black shoe on the bottom stair. Erik arched his back, rubbing against my leg.

"C'mon."

She pushed me through the door, closing it behind us. We were back in her room, having taken a moment to have a mental breakdown in the hallway (well, I had). I scooped Erik up, snuggling the black fur close to my chest. He mewled and swished his tail with content.

"We can't tie him up." I stated.

Tia nodded, plopping down on the end of her bed.

"Yeah, no kidding. He's way too smart for a stupid rope. And he'd be most likely to end-up using it on us – if, that is, he's actually _the_ Erik."

Little Erik mewed from his roost in my arms.

"Hold on to the cat," said Tia.

I watched quietly as she picked up the baseball bat off the floor, the one I had abandoned only fifteen minutes before. Her expression was thoughtful, if not a little distant. Tia gripped onto the bat like she was about to make a hit that would make a world-record.

Sounds of faint movement echoed from the closet door. Banging followed a few exclamations in French that suspiciously sounded like cursing. I held onto kitty Erik tighter, clutching his form against me. I hadn't even considered the idea that the masked man could be anyone _but_ the Opera Ghost. It isn't very logical considering that Phantom geniuses from the 1800s don't just pop into the modern world out of no where.

"Wow," I whispered in a wistful voice, "It could really be him."

"It's highly doubtful, Safer. Don't get your hopes up;" In a lower, softer tone she mumbled, "The more reasonable explanation could still be that this is a dream."

We stood there, Tia grasping the bat in her hands, me holding onto a little black cat. At any moment that door would open, and my dreams would either be fulfilled or shattered.

"I can't believe you're taking this seriously." She sighed.

Well, perhaps according to the more rational part of the situation, they'd most likely be shattered. But I couldn't help getting excited. It felt as though only a mere inch or two of wood was separating a legend from my eyes. The real thing! The Phantom of the Opera, The Opera Ghost, the Angel of Music, the Angel of Death, Eri–

"Erm, Saffron, did you lock the closet door?"

I swallowed, shaking my head.

"No, it wouldn't do much good. We'd have to let him out eventually, and he'd only be mad when we did. I figured we'd have a chance of a peaceful meeting if he wasn't angry."

Tia sighed, her eyes narrowing at the door. The knob was beginning to turn, leisurely. It continued its journey, rotating towards the freedom of a mastermind. Erik lifted his head, his ears pricking in the closet's direction. I had to close off my vocal cords as the door began to slide open. Whether this prevented a scream of terror or a squeal of fan girl worship, I wasn't sure.

The door thumped against the wall, and a cloaked figure stepped out of the closet's depths. In his gloved hands rested a leather strap, pulled taut in his grip. He looked as though he was a messenger of God, sent to demolish the wicked with righteous punishment and Tia's belt.

Erik – the one I was holding – meowed.

"You two," The master growled, "put me in _there_."

I'm sure 'there' was meant to sound distasteful, or at least among a hellish level. But from his voice it sounded like a paradise.

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement or peace treaty," Stated my best friend.

"Where am I?"

He had asked the same question before, but this time I think we were both awake enough to answer.

"I think what you should be asking is '_when_ am I?' You're not in Paris, and definitely not in the 18th century." Tia explained.

"Then _when_, pray tell, am I?"

His hold on the belt tightened somewhat, and I have a feeling if we were any closer to him, it might have been around one of our necks.

"You're in the year 2011, and the month is March. You're standing in America, the state – erm, province? – of California."

"That is impossible. I live in Paris, France." He snapped.

"You speak beautiful English!" I chirped.

Tia grunted irritably, "Look, I don't know how you got here. All I know is that you're in _my_ house, and you're probably one of my top favorite characters of literature."

"He _is_ my favorite!"

"Yes, Saffron, I know."

The musical genius cocked his head in Tia's direction. It was impossible to read what he was thinking because of the mask, but from the way his muscles tensed and his posture coiled, I was fairly certain he was ready to strangle anyone that got near him.

"From my brief encounter with the both of you, I have detected a hint of intellect in the one who holds the club. If there is to be made a 'peace treaty' here, I suspect it shall be discussed with _you_."

Tia nodded, dark curls falling around deep, brown eyes. They were hardened with a determination that I hadn't witnessed before, near resembling fierceness.

"Throw the belt out that window, and I'll throw my bat with it."

"Toss the club out the window and my leather lasso will follow it." He replied coldly.

Tia narrowed her eyes, "It's called a belt."

"It is a leather lasso."

"Belt."

"_Leather lasso_!"

"Belt!"

"Leather lasso!"

"It's a leather fucking belt!"

I crept to the side as they snapped at each other, loosening my hold to allow Erik to leap to the floor. Tia's stereo gleamed in the morning sunlight, its surface reflecting my best friend and a very frustrated masked man.

Tia held the bat tightly at her side, her voice rising to a crescendo of cursing symphonies. Erik – the man – looked so angry that he probably could have ripped the belt in half if it wasn't for the fact he needed it for strangling. I reached for the stereo, my fingertips grazing over the buttons. The _Play_ button almost seemed to glint as I pressed it.

Piercing, screaming notes broke the air. The lead guitarist's solo shrieked through the speakers, hard metal penetrating the room. I covered my ears, squeezing my eyes closed. The volume was so overwhelming that it felt as though my ears might combust.

My surroundings drowned in the striking of the bass, and I wasn't even aware of anything until I felt someone gently push me away from the stereo. Suddenly the agonizing music was gone, and when I opened my eyes, Tia's hand was on the _Stop_ button.

Erik kneeled silently on the floor, his hands over his ears. His eyes were open behind the confines of the mask, impossibly wide and stunned. The cloak's midnight material pooled around him as he stared at us through an alarmed gaze. The belt lay forgotten on the floor across from him. He must have dropped it in his distress.

"Now," Tia pursed her lips, "I hope we can settle this quietly."

Erik's hands fell into his lap, and after a moment he began to blink as through returning from a disturbing, secret dream.

"What…was _that_?"

Tia swallowed, walking over and curtly snatching the belt off the floor.

"That was metal, punk, or most commonly referred to as 'hard rock'."

I sunk into a black beanie seat, ignoring the way my hands were trembling. Pickles sounded good.

"…possibly the most horrific mutation of a composition…" The Phantom whispered faintly.

"Erik!" Tia barked.

The Opera Ghost lifted his eyes to her, and if it wasn't for the fact that it was impossible to feel anything towards him but adoration, I might have felt sorry for him. Well, I did, but it was smothered with vast admiration.

"I don't know how you got here, but until we figure out why and how to get you back, you're going to stay here. Now, my brother, highly the most esteemed Asshole by all accounts, is downstairs playing World of Warcraft. You _have_ to stay quiet."

It could have been the fact that the music had drowned Erik in utter culture shock, or it might have had to do with the situation at hand. However, the Phantom then answered in a surprisingly curious tone.

"Asshole?"

Tia rubbed her temples, "Yes, he is an Asshole."

Erik furrowed his brows. The other Erik – the furry, feline one – strolled over to the Opera Ghost, arching his back against the man's arm as he flicked his tail to and fro. Tia froze, almost as though not sure whether she should snatch the cat away for its own safety or not. Instead, one clever, gloved hand reached out and smoothed over the ebony fur.

"A marvelous creature," Erik commented.

I could hear the strong, brilliant part of him returning back in his voice. The outraged, murderous part of him from before had disappeared – though, I had a feeling that wasn't the last we'd see of it. The shock of the stereo had probably shaken the killing urge straight out of him for the time-being.

"He likes you!" I grinned.

Erik reached forward, stroking the little black cat gently behind the ears. It responded with a deep, satisfied purr.

"Erik," Tia sighed.

Both cat and the man looked up, pausing in their activity.

"You." She waved a hand in the Phantom's direction.

She looked extremely tired, though I truly couldn't blame her. It was still morning, and yet so much had happened. I could see Erik's eyes narrow behind the mask.

"So, can we make a truce?"

He had stiffened, a visible sign that the Opera Ghost was returning from his lapse in character.

"You will find a way to get me to Paris?"

"I will try my best, and all I ask in return is that you be civil in my house."

Erik inclined his head, and I could almost see the contemplation in his eyes. He nodded after a moment, his eyes flitting back to the cat.

"I suppose that is only the expected etiquette of a guest."

Tia opened her mouth to respond, and suddenly there was a knock on the door. Her eyes grew round with panic as they darted to the door, and she mouthed 'Kale'. I jumped up, running toward Erik. He stiffened as I grabbed his arm, tugging on it.

"It's Tia's brother. Quick, you have to hide!"

"I shall do no such thing," He quipped, "It is also proper etiquette for a guest to introduce themselves to other residents in the household."

The other Erik mewed, his wide, green eyes set on the man affectionately. I felt that I had most likely lost an admirer.

"What's going on in there?" I heard Kale huff from the other side of the door.

Tia held the door open by a few inches, "Why do you care? It's my room, Asshole."

"Because I took off my headphones so that I could get up to get a drink. Lo! Behold, there is a massive bit of crashing and hard metal-thumping upstairs. So, being the good younger brother that I am, and having great concern for my dear sister, I came up here to investigate."

"Great concern, my ass. Go back to your Dungeons and Dragons, Buttmunch."

"She creates unique endearments for her brother," Erik mused.

Kale grunted, "Who's talking in there?"

"Saffron and I are watching a movie. Beat it!"

It's funny how you can turn to grab something – say, a small cat – and the next moment you turn around and the genius Opera Ghost you were babysitting has disappeared. I strongly feel that the cat was in legion with Erik somehow, and they were to be planning a vast, incomprehensible scheme that we lower beings knew nothing of.

The next thing I knew, Erik's voice was directed toward Kale, crisp and formal.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Asshole. Are you, perhaps, the male in charge of this property?"

Tia practically sputtered, her dark curls falling out of their tangled ponytail. I let out a series of hiccupped giggles that resembled gasps, squeezing my eyes closed to hold in the urge to laugh out loud. She certainly wouldn't like that.

"Excuse me?" Kale choked, "Who the hell is this?"

"I am to be staying here for an extended period of time, depending on when your sister can take me back to Paris."

Tia lifted a hand to her forehead, effectively smacking her palm against it. It would've sent me into a fit of hysteria if it wasn't for the look on Kale's face.

"Kale, this is Erik. He's a friend of…erm, Aunt Christine. He needed a place to stay."

"We don't have an Aunt Christine!"

"Sure we do! Y'know, that cousin of our Uncle, who's sister is the girlfriend of Mr. Tibbs? Yeah…"

Kale's forehead was pinched with creases, and I could almost see the steam escaping his ears as he struggled to think. No, Erik had no relation to Tia. But by the time Kale figured that out, we'd most likely already be off the hook.

"Christine?" Erik whispered enthusiastically.

"No, not the same one, Erik." Tia whispered back in a clipped tone.

"Thanks, but you see, he is really tired from the drive here. So, I'm going to let him sleep and we'll talk more later. Goodbye!"

Kale reached forward, catching the door before it slammed in his face.

"Tia, I don't think tha-"

"Goodbye, Asshole." Erik echoed politely.

The last sight of Kale before the door clicked shut was the look of confused disbelief on his face.

"That went well." Tia moaned, sliding down the length of the door.

"It'll be great!" I chirped.


	4. Chapter 4

**~ Chapter Four ~**

_**Tia**_

Within the first day of making my decision to help Erik, I had begun to regret it. He wasn't a normal roommate by any means. For one, he didn't eat-out my fridge or tear-up my room. I couldn't even get him to glance at a piece of bread, and when I say the guy was neat, I mean he was _clean_. He organized my room – which, I was content with being messy, thank you – within a matter of hours, complaining of the fact that it would attract mice and bugs.

Half of the time that he was keeping himself busy by cleaning my room, he was treating each new item he found like a precious specimen. He discovered a box of tampons with immense interest, and I nearly kicked him out when he tried to examine them. I wasn't about to explain their use to an Opera Ghost.

By noon, I was exhausted with trying to keep him out of my stuff.

"What is 'Dungeons and Dragons'?" Erik inquired.

Saffron had made it her job to clean-out my closet so that Erik would have a place to sleep. It was a cozy little space that had just enough room to lay in, and after a long explanation to Erik on how it was not, in fact, a torture chamber, he agreed to go in it again. To all of our surprise, he took a fondness to it. I shouldn't have been surprised, considering that in a roundabout way, the closet had a dark allure that it shared with his lair in the Opera House. It didn't sound too bad to have the Ghost in my closet, when in consideration, it was more intriguing than having him on the couch downstairs.

"It's a game," Saffron answered from inside the closet.

I eyed him from over the edge of my book, "Why do you ask?"

Erik sat on the end of my bed, his posture stiff and unrelentingly alert. Little Erik relaxed in his arms, contently purring as the Phantom stroked his sleek fur.

"I heard of it from Monsieur Asshole. He was talking about it when he exited down the stairs."

I briefly mused over whether I should set him straight about Kale's name, only to dismiss the thought shortly after. It didn't hurt anything.

"You make a character and then you roll dice to decide their fate." I summed-up.

Erik raised an eyebrow, mulling over it. After a moment he nodded.

"So you are the game-maker?"

"Yeah, basically."

"I've done that before. It's quite simple."

I paused in what I was doing, honestly taken-aback. My book slowly lowered to my lap as I studied his face curiously.

"I didn't know they had D&D during the eighteenth century."

"I am lost as to the clarity behind your words, but what I am referring to lies along my investigations in Persia. Traps, torture chambers, and the like." He glanced toward the closet only a little doubtfully.

I blanched, "So what you're really referring to is torturing people. What does that have to do with D&D?"

Saffron hopped out of the closet, rubber gloves up to her elbows and a smear of something that looked like dirt across her cheek. A silly grin lit her features.

"He's talking about killing people! Right, Erik?" She said a little too cheerfully.

I sighed, "I still don't get it."

Saffron plopped down on the rug near my bed, batting her side-bangs out of her eyes.

"In the act of murder one would be deciding the fate of another. But considering the fact that the Phantom was infamous for his opinions of the humanoids that stumbled into his lair and therefore the traps therein, it's safe to assume he thought of them as nothing more than little puppets. So, in a way, perhaps Erik thinks that D&D is like killing someone. But maybe you should try a different approach than just torture," She addressed said man on the last sentence.

Erik stared at her blankly, his eyes shifting to me in disbelief.

"She…sounded…"

"Intelligent? It happens on occasion."

Saffron stretched her arms out above her head, arching her back like a little cat. Speaking of the animal, little Erik had taken an obvious liking to the Opera Ghost – and that alone was an understatement. He was around him _all_ the time, purring and rubbing up against his legs as though without the man's attention, he'd surely starve to death. Erik didn't seem to mind too much, though, but I assumed he probably was able to connect with animals more than humans, anyway. At least, from what I'd read about him.

My best friend turned on my mini TV, pulling out two Xbox 360 controllers. Erik eyed them warily.

"What are those?" he asked.

I inwardly groaned and stood, snapping my book closed with finality.

"I'm going downstairs to get something to eat. Keep him occupied without tearing-up my room."

"You don't need my help to do that," He sniffed, "I'm not a small child."

I shot him a look before striding across the room and down the stairs. One of my favorite things about Erik had always been his sharp tongue and don't-give-a-shit attitude. Somehow I didn't seem to like it as much when it was directed towards me. I tossed the thought aside and immediately went for the fridge, pulling it open and scanning the shelves. A four-pack of _Monster_ sat on the bottom shelf, and I grabbed one, ignoring the fact that my brother would probably bitch about it later.

It ran down the back of my throat, a cold shot of energy that pooled in my stomach with renewed assurance. I'd probably finish another one before the day was out. Thankfully Kale was too selfish with his stuff to _not_ go buy more. I loved using my brother. We were out of Coke, but Kale didn't give a shit about soda for the most part. I was out of luck on that. So, the best thing to do would be to drain every last drop of what he _did_ like.

I spent another few minutes standing in the middle of the kitchen, downing the _Monster_. I threw it in the trash when I was done, not caring if it was easily visible. The phone went off as I turned, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Hello?" I sighed.

"_Hey, honey. I'm just letting you know that I'll be home really late tonight. Order some food and keep your brother out of trouble."_

"Alright."

This wasn't anything unfamiliar, honestly. I had spent many nights like this, but it just happened that on this one I was blessed (depending on one's perspective) with company. Somehow I just couldn't picture Erik sleeping in my closet, however.

Loud noises of triumph issued from my room, and I peeked around the corner of the doorway cautiously. Saffron threw up her arms in conquest, and Erik glowered at the controller on his lap with obvious contempt. His fingers moved over the buttons with unfamiliar hesitation, and I figured that – for once – he had no clue what he was doing.

"Erik?" I approached with awkward steps, not really sure of how to offer to him my resolution.

His head jerked away from the television screen, eyes settling with disgruntled irritation on my face.

"I have something for you to mess with if you want. I don't really know how to use it that well, so…"

"Is it an instrument?" He blurted.

"Yes."

His face lit like a Christmas tree, and I inwardly felt a little aggravation at doing something nice. But perhaps – just maybe – it could be pardoned since this was the Opera Ghost I was assisting.

I retrieved the electric guitar from behind my dresser with unease. I wasn't really sure how he'd react to it, but it was nothing like I expected. Curiosity exploded across his features, and I watched with quiet interest as he rose, taking it from me.

Erik lifted it in his grasp, his eyes running over it in bewildered excitement. I was sure that I'd just hit the jackpot that would keep in occupied for days – if he stayed that long.

* * *

"He's beginning to grow restless," Saffron said on Sunday.

I glanced over my shoulder at the Opera Ghost, cross-legged on the couch. He strummed quietly on the guitar cradled against his chest. Erik – the cat – nestled up against his leg, looking just as dejected as his name sake.

"What makes you think that?" I asked nonchalantly.

Saffron sighed, "I think we should take him out of the house. This isn't healthy."

"We're talking about a man who has lived a large portion of his life under an Opera House. Dark, musty, and secluded are his high points."

"Tia."

I raised my hands in a defensive manner. How the hell did you take an aged, murderous genious on an outing into a world that had changed drastically since he'd last seen it? You didn't. At least, that was my viewpoint.

Saffron's eyes lit with such an intensity that I thought she'd imploded.

"That's it! We go to school tomorrow. Let's take him with us!"

"_What_? Hell NO!"

"C'mon!"

"No."

She pouted, with eyes that would make an entire kennel of puppies jealous. I nearly swallowed my tongue.

"Fine! But _you_ are responsible for taking care of this. If it doesn't work out, he stays home."


End file.
